


Prompt fill - Who were you with?

by SosearchingRomeo (Breakingthestandards)



Category: Romeo And Juliet - All Media Types, Romeo et Juliette - Presgurvic
Genre: A bit of humour, Jealousy, M/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-26 21:50:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13866708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Breakingthestandards/pseuds/SosearchingRomeo
Summary: Prompt fill: “Who were you with?” Tybalt x Mercutio for staifuoridallamiavita on Tumblr, who said: Hey hi!! Can I ask for a nice hot cuppa of jealousy with “Who were you with?” Thank you so much!!





	Prompt fill - Who were you with?

When the door opened it was to reveal the sour expression of a certain Capulet who stood behind, thoroughly pissed. Dark hairs surrounded a solid face riddled with lines of annoyance, malcontent, and general displeasure. With his jaw clenched and his hands balled into fists, Tybalt wasn’t painting a pretty picture. Not when the way too chirpy boy in front of him came to a halt with a bright smile, a wide gesture of the hands, and an eager and lean bow that almost felt as if it were meant to mock him.

“Who were you with?”

The boy in front of him looked surprised. His brows raised in question. “Is that your way to greet me?”

“You’re always on time,” The Capulet snarled, then advanced at him until he was only a hair’s breadth away. Standing this close to the Escalus heir was intimidating, as well as stimulating for the both of them. He could see the boy’s sharp intake of breath, and felt how his own blood was pumping through his veins. Anger and love had always lain close together for the two of them.

“Am I?” The Escalus heir blurted out, “I’m never on time, right?”

Tybalt crossed his arms in front of his chest and did his utmost best to peer down at the lad. His gaze warning him not to toy, not to jest, in this instance. “But you are when we’re meeting. You’re never late. Punctual.”

Mercutio was silent, by the sight of it he was biting his tongue, for there were enough witty remarks to give but the fact remained that Tybalt was right. He always made sure to be on time when they met.

“But you’re not now.” The Capulet stated.

“No.”

“So?” Tybalt titled his head meaningfully, “Are you going to tell me who kept you?”

“My dear Prince of Cats,” Mercutio said with a laugh,  _was he thinking of excuses?_  “Now it just sounds as if you’re jealous…”

“Perhaps I have reason to be…” His hand tangled in the boy’s hair and he drew him close. Their breaths mingled, peppermint and lavender, leather and sweat – as if worlds collided.

“Do I?” The Capulet’s whisper was hoarse, nothing more than a soft breath, the air lightly puffing against Mercutio’s ear. His skin prickled, goose bumps arising.

“Romeo-“ Mercutio didn’t even get the chance to finish his sentence for suddenly he found that Tybalt was far away. The Capulet swordsman had pushed him against his chest, increasing the distance between them by what felt like miles but was in reality just a meter or two.

Tybalt was holding his head in his hands. His teeth were clenched and his eyes were closed in agony. Mercutio’s eyes widened in fear at the sight of his friend – his secret lover – his nemesis-who-once-was. “No!” The Capulet shouted, interrupting whatever Mercutio had been about to say. “Him! I knew I had good cause to be concerned. That foul, pig-headed scum. That Montague dog who thinks he can get away with the nicest bone in all of Verona. That smug, vile scoundrel of the lowest tier! And he thinks he can just put his dirty paws on your soft glowing skin and get away with it? I will have his head!”

“Tybalt,” Mercutio tried, an attempt in vain as he ran across to the man in question and attempted to place a hand on his chest. But the hand was pushed away by the Capulet who did his utmost best at trying to twist himself out of Mercutio’s reach.

“That low-life charlatan. When I get my hands on him he will be serving his time in the darkest, vilest prisons of hell!”

“Tybalt?” Mercutio tried again, but gave up the attempts of trying to call out his name or search for a physical connection when he saw how Tybalt managed to lash out at him, blocking Mercutio’s hand which had been searching for his arm, twisting it around until it was curled against Mercutio’s back. The Escalus boy decided to remain timid at that point, and let Tybalt vent.

Which he did. The Capulet was growling curse after curse, and made a lot of promises - of which Mercutio hoped he would not be keeping them -  in the process.

Finally the Capulet calmed down. He held his hand on his dagger though, and with a determined look in his eyes made his way to the door.

“Look,” Mercutio started, finally able to put a hand on Tybalt’s arm and stopping him midway to the door.

“No,” Tybalt growled, spinning around on his heels to face him, “you look, Mercutio. Can’t you see he uses you? He isn’t honest in his declarations! Once you’re out of his bed he’ll dance to another Montague girl and he’ll have forgotten about you. Like always! Why keep pining for him?”

There was a brief moment of silence as their eyes met. Tybalt could see the pain within Mercutio’s orbs, a pain which reflected his own. He knew he had hit a nerve by starting about Mercutio’s hopelessly unreturned feelings for his best friend.  _Had he gone too far?_  But the emotion was there for only a second before it was being replaced with something more zestful.

“Sweet, sweet, Tybalt,” Mercutio’s voice lowered, but there was a tone of jest that was unmistakable. The boy made sure their eye contact was maintained while he spoke. “Jealousy _does_ become you.” He teased, erupting a humph from his opponent. “However, that was not why I late. I was merely detained because Romeo’s mother asked me where he was and I had to help her search for him. Clever note, I finally found him, aren’t you proud of me?”

It took Tybalt a moment, filled with scrupulous blinking, to process his words. “You were … not … with Romeo?”

“Na-ah,” Mercutio playfully shook his head. The palm he had placed against Tybalt’s arm, first tense upon his skin, now rested there, the pressure light. If he wanted the Capulet could still bolt. But he remained.

“And not with Benvolio?” Tyablt tried, hardly believing his ears.

“Romeo’s mum,” Mercutio repeated, then let go of Tybalt to pinch the bridge of his own nose thoughtfully. “I’d hardly describe her as looking similar to Ben.”

“Ah…” Tybalt’s shoulders slumped, the tension now gone. There was a frown upon his face, indicating he had a hard time coming to terms with either his own misunderstanding or his acute response to the situation. He was way too proud to admit he’d behaved in a outstandingly covetous way – something conflicting with the image he wanted to project on those around him.

Mercutio’s snickering brought him out of his thoughts. He eyed him suspiciously.

“Did you just say I have a glowing skin?” The boy’s grin spread across his face. “Truly, Tybalt? What am I? A fairy to you?”

Tybalt’s reply was a muffled indescribable grump, accompanied by a gesture of the hand.

“And did you just call me a nice bone?” Mercutio was not discouraged. He took a step closer to the Capulet, cocking his head and battering his eyelashes.

“Uh, I might have,” Tybalt confessed, stammering with cheeks red in embarrassment.

“No, no,” Mercutio shook his head, then reached out with his hand to cup the Capulet’s cheek, “You didn’t quite say that. You said  _nicest._  The  _nicest_ bone.”

“Stop it, Mercutio.”

“I will once you admit to it.” Mercutio’s hand fell from Tybalt’s cheek, only to have a finger trace down the Capulet’s chest seductively.

“All right then,” Tybalt hesitated here, “I admit.” He eyed Mercutio distrustfully, and true to his senses, the boy didn’t keep his promise.

“The  _nicest_ , really, Tybalt? Why? Is  _my bone_  that  _hard_  for you?”

“Shut up.”

“Hmm,” Mercutio hummed, closing the gap between them. “If you want me to shut up….then make me.”


End file.
